


Kiss Your Fist and Punch Me in the Mouth

by xSheepie



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boxing, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Exhibitionism, Gym Sex, M/M, Play Fighting, Semi-Public Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex, Voyeurism, shower blowjob, size queen mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSheepie/pseuds/xSheepie
Summary: UpdatedBoxing AU - Mickey has a class at a gym to scrap up some extra cash. Ian, with his older boyfriend, join the class. Mickey tries to destroy the older boyfriend, older boyfriend tries to keep Ian, Ian decides maybe there's more than rich old dudes.





	1. Make Me Sweat

Ian was a stretch of a boy- only seventeen and nearly six foot- when he joined the gym one sunny afternoon. At first it was because his current boyfriend, Anderson, wanted it. Ian went along because it was a means to stay fit, but that changed soon enough. Ian started pushing for going three times a week and to everyone on the outside it simply because there was a boxing class at that time.

Now, Ian had toyed with the idea of taking a fighting class before- he'd grown up on the south side so he knew how take a hit and with his size and build he could look intimidating. Although he wasn’t extremely eager, Anders had seen the poster and signed them both up. After the first class, he was hooked.

He quickly realized it was something he could learn to love. The teacher, Mickey Milkovich, was a tough, no-nonsense, squat, black haired guy. He didn't take shit from the students and he thought it was pertinent that some things be learned painfully. Anders missed the first class but Ian had shown up anyway, deciding to feel out the class before Anders saw him possibly humiliate himself.

He had shown up in basketball shorts and a cut off, not really sure what this class required outfit wise. As more people filtered in he saw most were dressed the same and relaxed some. Mickey was at the front messing with an Ipod and when the clock hit 3:30 he pressed play and went to the bag at the front of the class.

The class begin fast-paced and intense and stayed that way for a full hour. Ian knew he had good stamina, and was in good shape from the dancing and sex but fifteen minutes in he was sweating like a whore in church and several guys had stopped altogether and were bent over panting. Ian was determined to keep up as Mickey stopped giving instructions and started to make rounds, correcting forms and making changes.

Ian kept him in his peripheral vision, working extra hard when Mickey came by and stood quietly behind him. He made a lazy circle, eyeing Ian like he wanted to know what made him tick. "What's your name, kid?" He asked.

"Ian." He responded, a little breathlessly.

"Good form. Hit more from your shoulder and less from your elbow. Connect your movements." Mickey walked off without another word. Ian looked after him, temporarily lagging in his punching. Mickey finished his rounds and rejoined the front of the class. He flicked off the music and the students stopped gratefully. "See you on Wednesday." Their teacher said and they were as good as dismissed. Most fled, whether from fear or having more urgent things Ian wasn't sure. He would guess the former.

Ian peeled off his gloves and wiped his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. Mickey had gathered a gym bag and was heading towards Ian. Ian saw him eye his abs when he lifted his shirt and when Ian caught his eye he smirked.

Mickey flipped him off. “You coming?” he asked as he shoved the door open.

“Not just by looking at you.” Ian joked and Mickey wheeled to look at him eyebrows raised, fixed scowl still in place. “Oh sorry, man!” Ian exclaimed, hands open. “I just thought-”

Mickey cocked his head to the side. “Thought I’m a fag? A fairy? You got that vibe from me?”

“Hey man I don’t-” Ian was quickly backtracking, wondering if he was about to get an up close demonstration of the lesson he’d just received.

“Well I am.” With that Mickey let the door slam close and walked out of sight. Ian relaxed into a smile. Mission accepted.


	2. Drip, Drip, Dripping Down The Drain

Mickey was actually excited walking into the gym on Wednesday. He came an hour early as usual to get a good warmup and to set up the classroom, heavy gym bag on his shoulder. Todd waved him past the front desk and Mickey nodded in return, continuing on his way, not quite sure why he was nervous. Certainly _not_ because there was some redhead in his class who had abs and biceps and looked like he should be teaching the class, not fumbling around in the back like he wasn’t quite sure how to use his too large body.

Mickey could think of plenty of things he could do with that body. And those hands. Fuck. Mickey swung the bag off his shoulder and hung it, thoughts off on Ian again. The boy looked like an Ian, Mickey thought, with so many freckles fading into his skin, making it look dirty from a distance. Maybe Mickey should try licking them to see if they came off.

The time came and went and before he knew it the class was filling. He surveyed the studio, waiting for Ian to come in. He didn’t. Mickey frowned and checked the clock on his Ipod. 3:33. Hm. He started the class stretching, checking the door every few seconds. It was 3:10 when Ian came in. He was followed by an older guys, perhaps forty-five or fifty, laughing at something Ian had just said.

Mickey smiled to himself and started the class on bags, slowly building the pace, keeping a close eye on Ian who was puffing the least. At twenty minutes the old man next to him started to slow. At thirty he pretty much stopped and at forty he looked like he was going to cough up a lung. Ian was still going strong and for some stupid reason Mickey felt proud of him.

He ended the class right on time and the students scattered. He finished wiping everything down and when he turned, he noticed Ian was gone. _Dammit_. he thought, annoyed he'd missed his chance, _t_ _ime to rinse off and head home_. He grabbed his bag with his clean clothes and headed to the showers. He always felt embarrassed in the gym showers because each stall only had a thin curtain separating it from the next and usually it didn't even stretch the entire distance. Either way he tossed his bag on a bench, turned on the water and stripped.

Mickey hopped under the stream of lukewarm water and noticed with mild interest the guy next to him was getting a blowjob. He could see some guy on his knees, and the feet of the other. There was some soft panting going on and Mickey tried to ignore because how porn-like would it be to jerk off to the sounds of someone getting blown in the next gym shower?

When he heard the guy on his knees gag, Mickey couldn’t help himself. He quickly took hold of dick and jerked it a few times when he caught a look at the couple between the gap in the certain and the tiled wall. There was the old guy from class, head back against the wall, Ian on his knees, eyes closed, mouth open, water spraying onto his face. The corpse had one claw in Ian’s hair, holding him down, choking him on his prick.

Mickey immediately backed away from the curtain and nearly came into his fist. So, not his dad then. He heard the guy finish and the water shut off and the two exited. Mickey went out as soon as they were gone. He dressed quickly and got his shit together, feeling weird.

Mickey left the bathroom, trying to get out as quickly as possible, when he was forced to stop short. Ian and his grandpa were kissing and whispering to each other. _How sweet,_ Mickey thought,  _I'm going to get a cavity_. He watched them as they pulled away and held hands as they headed to the doors. Suddenly, the couple froze. There was a women at the counter, and even from here Mickey could see the huge rock on her finger when she started to turn. He watched in disbelief as the guy dropped Ian's hand and took a couple steps away from him.

“Anders!” the woman called when she spotted the duo.

“Phyllis.” Anders replied with a smile and moved to the woman, kissing her. Ian’s face had started to harden in the background and he was all but ignored as the two continued to talk, Anders seeming to ask about why the woman was here, the woman looking offended she wasn’t received better. The two started to leave and Anders held the door open for his wife. With one hand on his wifes back, he looked back at Ian and made the ‘call me’ gesture.

Ian nodded but at Mickey’s distance he looked ready to kill. Mickey couldn’t help himself as he brushed past him. “Hard break man. When you’re fucking the crypt keeper though… _old_ fashion values go out the window.”

Ian looked incredibly insulted. “Fuck you.” He spluttered. “What the hell do you know, you fucking repressed… shit.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “Know you deserve better then to be some assholes gay secret.”

Ian paused, his anger seeming to drain minutely. “Do you wanna… get out of here?”

Mickey cocked his head to the side. “Sure.”


	3. Slick, Pop

The boys took a taxi to Mickey’s apartment chosen because it was the middle of the day and Ian’s house was perpetually full- Ian lived at home, but made up something about having family over. Mickey thought it was funny Ian was trying to impress him with age he didn’t have but he let it slide.

They stayed pretty quiet mostly because every time Ian tried to ask Mickey a question, he’d shut him down due to how fucking young he sounded. It was an ice cold reminder that Ian was a kid and Mickey was… not.

“So… where do you work?”

Mikey stared at him.

“How long have you been boxing?”

More staring.

“How’s your day been?”

“Jesus Christ kid, _please_ just…” Ian looked down at his lap and then out the window, suitably chastised. Mickey felt bad because of how pathetic he looked. Mickey wanted to scream, or go back in time and not ask a freaking teenager to fuck. The minutes of silence were stretching. “Where… do you go to school?” He finally gave in.

Ian looked over, annoyed. He opened his mouth to retort and Mickey held back a groan, getting ready for a teenage tantrum. “Listen, just because you want to screw does not mean you have to play nice- if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, but don’t pretend you care just because you think its gonna get you in my pants faster. I’m a good lay whether or not I’ve been fucking _chatted up_ so please _just_ -” He ended pointedly and Mickey grimaced at the mimicry. Holy shit this was way too much work for ass.

As the taxi (thank god) pulled to a stop outside one of the tall apartment buildings, the cabbie stuck his hand out for the fare. Mickey paid the man and the two got out and hurried up the stairs, bypassing the out of order elevator. Now that they were closer to their objective their urgency outweighed some of the discomfort from the botched conversation in the cab.

Mickey fumbled to get the key into the lock and Ian plastered himself to his back, leaving opened mouth kisses along the back of his neck. “C’mon, Mick. Want ya bad.” The words sounded fake and made Mickey’s insides squirm. He forced the door open and felt Ian push in behind him. “Only happy customers here, man, not gonna disappoint.” He kiseed up the shell of his ear, “Wanna make you sweat.”

Mickey barely caught the door with his foot to kick it shut before Ian was shoving his coat off his shoulders. Then the big hands were peeling off his t-shirt. Then they were at his buckle. All the while Ian was kissing him, hard and forceful, and the whole thing made Mickey want to yell ‘you don’t have anything to prove!’

He didn’t say anything though mostly because he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. Mickey wasn’t a man of words so instead he pushed Ian back a step and asked him breathlessly to strip. Ian did and while his words sounded stilted, the punch drunk look in his eyes was making up for it. His mouth looked chapped and red from the cold and the kissing as he shed his coat, shirt and jeans.

As soon as he could he attached himself back to Mickey, hands groping, mouth busy. “Be-bed.” Ian stuttered out and Mickey tugged him to the back room. His bed had the sheets and blankets kicked to the foot of the bed from this morning and the little attached bathroom’s door was standing wide.

Mickey was embarrassed for some reason. Maybe it was his lack of books or that Ian had stopped in the doorway, looking around. Or maybe it was the fact his black dildo was beside his bed leg and that’s what Ian was looking at.

“Oh baby,” Ian near sighed and tackled Mickey onto the bed. Mickey hooked a leg around Ian’s waist, twisting to pin him to the bed. He ground down against Ian, his hardened member tenting his boxers.

Ian reared up to bite at his bottom lip and Mickey groaned, low in his throat. “Jesus, kid.” Mickey stopped trying to win and let Ian wrestle him on to his hands and knees. He stretched over to pull lube out of his bedside drawer. He flicked a condom over his shoulder at Ian. “Rubber up, firecrotch.” Mickey was happier here, felt less like underage whatever the hell.

“I like that.” Ian admitted as he did as he was told. He lubed up a couple fingers and pushed into Mickey slowly. Mickey relished the burn of long fingers and couldn’t wait for the even longer dick he’d felt through Ian’s boxers. Was Mickey a bit of a size queen? Yes, yes he was.

Ian curled his fingers inside of Mickey, who caught his breath when he brushed his prostate. “Fuck.” He muttered. “I can take it, hurry up.”

He sounded a little star struck. “I believe it.” Ian withdrew his fingers and quickly replaced it. “You open up so good, Mick.” The spongy head of his dick pressed past the ring of muscle with an obscene pop. Ian pushed in all the way and waited until his pelvis was against the curve of Mickey’s ass before stopping.

Mickey was breathing shallowly and had dropped down onto his forearms. “Teach me what you keep bragging about.” he demanded hoarsely. So Ian did.

Ian fucked his teacher hard and jackrabbit fast. He curled a hand around Mickey’s hard cock, milking it slow and tight and so different from the way the room was starting to spin a little. Mickey was a whimpering mess, Ian’s hard grunts weaving together to make such pretty, ugly music. Mickey never wanted to hear anyone else.

Ian kept fucking him even after Mickey spilled into his hand. His pumping hips rocked the bed and sweat smeared between their bodies. Ian pulled out suddenly and Mickey cried out at the sudden loss of friction and heat. Ian pushed at his shoulder until he rolled onto his back. He slid back between his legs and continued his frantic search for release.

Ian hiked Mickey’s legs up onto his shoulders and nearly folded him in half as he fucked into his pliable ass. His strokes became erratic as he came, leaning down to kiss Mickey hard, teeth clashing. Mickey was okay being crushed as he gripped the back of Ian’s head and pulled him closer. He came a second time, keening in the back of his throat when Ian touched him again. The two had to separate to breath and Ian pulled out of Mickey with a grimace, tying off the condom and tossing it away. He collapsed next to Mickey, breathing heavily.

“Fuck, kid.”

Mickey rolled out of bed and came back with a Gatorade and a beer. Ian snatched the beer from him and popped the cap off on the edge of the side table. Mickey lit a cig while he waited for Ian to drink. The power drink was forgotten on the floor beside the bed.

“Stop calling me kid… old man.”

Mickey took the bottle back, took a long pull. “Shit head.”

The two lay in compatible silence for a couple minutes.       

“Wanna go again?” Ian asked hopefully. The joys of being young, Mickey wanted to say and it wasn’t such a bad thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Give me prompts (not necessarily for this fandom) and I'll try to deliver. I write for your approval! Also check my profile for regular updates on shit I'm working on. Please comment and make a sad person happy :)


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